Temptation Lurks
by Minka and Yours Truly
Summary: As the Ring intensifies its call, the whisper reaches the ears of Aragorn, bringing him down and breaking all that he once was while twisting his desires and making him see that temptation comes in many different forms; some easier to obtain then others.
1. Besmirched Nobility

Author Notes: Okay, here we are again with yet another little or more like big…sadistic…dark…violent story…just like we like them! *Grin* So Minka and I started this on another one of our chats, completely out of the blue with a stupid little question that became this, somehow…we are still trying to figure out the how…   
  
But anyway, in here we are both experimenting with a lot of stuff, so behold! The warnings!  
  
Warnings: This is slash, fellows, one-sided A/L slash. This also contains Non-con issues and the violence you come to expect in a story that has Minka on it! *Waves at glaring Minka* with the inner turmoil some seem to think is on my stories *innocent look* I have no idea where you got such a thing from…  
  
You must have in mind, every single one of you, that the following story is not what you have probably grown to expect from us. This is not the flowers and sugar we usually write, nor does it contain rainbows and smiles like every other story that we have written…*ducks at flying objects* WHAT? You don't think we write *dark* things do you?!?! *Ducks again* Okay so maybe you're right…Well, anyhow, to your shock as well as our own - we have grown up! *Sniff* And gone even darker! *Evil grin from Minka and Yours Truly*  
  
So now that that's dealt with, enjoy the story! And Please R&R!   
  
Temptation Lurks  
  
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Chapter one:   
Besmirched Nobility   
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He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, being led forward by the remaining sense of valor and honor that all expected from him. He was the heir to the throne of Gondor, a King in disguise waiting for the time to take his rightful place. Yet now…now it was all a blur, a distant memory, perhaps a tale. He wasn't that man. That fact was clear in his mind, for he knew that he could not be that noble man that crowds would follow, and he felt each stab of pain that came with the knowledge that it had been his own weakness which had let his own people down. He felt unworthy, he felt dirty…he felt…thirsty…empty…lacking a center and haunted by that which he could not have.   
  
But he refused to let himself be troubled about this now, it was not the time nor the place to mourn, not when he had heard the horn of Gondor cry for his help through the forest, shaking his entire being into motion, forgetting all the doubts and fears, the insecurity and the ever growing need for what was not his; he had started running and still did, searching desperately for some sign of…  
  
…No…  
  
A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake he found Boromir. He sat there, as if resting…but Aragorn knew better. Arrows pierced his strong body; black-feathered arrows that stood out in horrible contrast to the pale complexion of who would be his friend. Blood stained his clothes, running slowly in small droplets that escaped around the wounds not covered by the arrows. The ranger ran to his human companion and knelt next to him, breathing deeply to try and calm himself down.  
  
He had not failed…no, he had not failed, Boromir would be fine, he only had to heal his wounds, and he would be fine, he would…  
  
He will die The thought ran unbidden through his mind, and he froze, his shaking hands stilling before they reached the arrows that pierced his companion Boromir will die, and there will be one less to fight against you for it…to take it from you…  
  
Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo." he said in a ragged whisper that stopped the ranger's heart. Aragorn eyes went cold, even as Boromir's gaze stared unseeing at him, as if through him. The man was dying, and Aragorn still had to fight down the urge to sink the arrows further into the abused body.  
  
He tried to take it! He tried to steal it from Frodo, from Middle Earth! He wanted to take the ring for himself, when it belongs to me…Thief! Nothing but a dishonor and a thief!   
  
"I am sorry. I have paid." Boromir spoke, breaking his trance. His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there…Aragorn willed them to live, to rise again so he could take out his anger with them, to cut their cursed existence short all over again…so he could take out his hate while they tried to defend themselves…he willed those orcs to live so they could sink more arrows into Boromir's body, so they could take satisfaction from watching his friend die, while Aragorn simply enjoyed not having to hear his pained voice any longer…  
  
"They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them." The steward paused and his eyes closed wearily.   
  
The images haunted Aragorn then, Merry and Pippin screaming in fright as strong Orcan hands grasped their bodies, carrying them away. Two less on this fellowship, and the man in front of him was weakening, making his heart feel torn between grief and glee at the prospect of his approaching death. His mind cried out in rebellion to his traitorous feelings, his conflicting emotions, yet the feelings were there. Boromir was a threat on his mind now, and his bonds of friendship with the man were not enough to still the hiss that whispered into his thoughts  
  
No Boromir, no halflings…the ring is almost yours…four gone…four to go…  
  
"Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."  
  
As have I…a thief…you are a thief Boromir…no…no…you are my friend…you were my friend before this presence invaded me, before this whisper brought the worse in me, before I lied to all of you…  
  
"No!" said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. "You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!"  
  
I shall guard Minas Tirith…I shall have it…it shall be mine soon, and I will make it strong, will make it impenetrable, and then I shall defeat the Dark Lord, be the King of Gondor… of the fields of Rohan and beyond…  
  
Boromir smiled.  
  
But for that, I need it…I shall take it…  
  
"Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?" asked Aragorn hurriedly.  
  
But Boromir did not speak again. Aragorn stared at his peaceful face for a few seconds, and did not stop his observations even as he could hear approaching heavy steps. His grey eyes pierced Boromir, as if by his will alone he could make him live; could make him answer his question. The hysterical laughter that escaped him was too soft for the ears of Gimli, who now stood a few feet back, staring at Boromir with a grief stricken expression. But the sound did not escape Legolas' hearing, and the piercing blue eyes burned into Aragorn's back.  
  
Legolas watched as Aragorn rose to his feet, brushing tears from his eyes and the Elf could not help but wonder what had caused them - pain of grief or the call of insanity.   
  
The laugh that had escaped the man's lips only moments before spoke nothing but ill to the Elf and for once in his life Legolas was seriously worried about his friend. Aragorn had always been strong and noble, one to sacrifice himself for another at no matter what the situation or the person, and yet that laugh, that laugh was… evil.   
  
Legolas watched Gimli walking up to Aragorn, the shorter being reaching up to place his hand on Aragorn's arm in a sign of silent comfort. Knowing that he should do the same, Legolas willed his questioning mind into submission and moved slowly forward as if he were a cat stalking its prey.   
  
Reaching his human friend, he went to do the same as Gimli before moving away, but was surprised to find the man's arms wrap around him and pull him into an embrace. Knowing that if he were to shrug it off, it would arise suspicion, Legolas let Aragorn hug him, offering his support and patting the man's back gently.   
  
After a few moments in which Aragorn had still not let him go, Legolas was starting to get tense, and once a hand threaded its way through his hair to rub the back on his neck, he abruptly pulled away, muttering something about getting their packs. He could see the shocked look on the rangers face, and again he wondered what caused it.  
  
Moving silently away, Legolas ignored the eyes of the ranger that followed his back and the inquisitive gaze of Gimli, telling himself that it was only in his head and that there was nothing wrong with his human friend.   
  
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Standing and looking out over the wide stretch of water, Legolas could see the small boat that was pulled ashore on the other bank, obviously the work of the Ring bearer and his companion. He could not help but feel that, no matter what objections that he had towards them going off alone; they had done the right thing. Something about Aragorn's laughter had stayed with him, and, looking out on the path of the Hobbits, he felt almost certain what it was, Aragorn had fallen to the power of the Ring, he had succumb to the pull and taunts of the Dark Lords implement.   
  
Footsteps came tramping through the forest, warning Legolas of Aragorn and Gimli's approach and he quickly pushed his thoughts on the matter of the Ring to the back of his mind. Not even turning around in greeting, Legolas could feel Aragorn's eyes on his back, boring a hole through him as if the man was reading his mind.   
  
Could he suspect that I know about him?   
  
The thought hit him hard and Legolas inwardly cringed at the prospect of Aragorn knowing his belief.   
  
"Legolas," something in Aragorn's voice sent shivers up and down Legolas' spine as the human called to him, interrupting his thoughts. "Legolas, my friend, come. We must see to Boromir."  
  
Not wishing to face the human and see what he knew would be in Aragorn's eyes, Legolas continued to look out onto the river, his eyes searching the back for any sign of the hobbits. He did not want to admit to himself that Aragorn, his strong minded friend, could fall subject to the will of the Ring, but what else was there? Nothing else would explain his behavior, the look in his eyes that suggested that he would kill anyone to get what he wanted and even the hissed way that he spoke, nothing else could accommodate for such actions.   
  
A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts and made him jump, air being sucked through his teeth so loudly that he was sure that the human heard it. As he felt another hand snake in front of him and grasp his other shoulder, he knew that the future king had been well aware of his fright. Before he knew it, Legolas found himself being turned around so to look right into the man's face, the humans' hands resting on his shoulders.  
  
"What is wrong, my friend?" Aragorn asked his voice so concerned that Legolas knew that it was fake, that the man's lust for the Ring was taking control. Slowly, Aragorn's hands started to rub the Elf's arms. His thumbs massaging the soft, cloth covered skin as he went. "Legolas, my dear friend, if Boromir's death has affected you so, you must tell me so I may help you. I will not risk losing you to Elven grief." The man's voice was a deadly whisper, his face only inches from the Elf's while his hot breath gently stirred the hair that fell about Legolas' shoulders.   
  
"I am fine," Legolas replied bluntly, his voice clear of any emotion whatsoever. Shrugging, he attempted to get the man's hands off his arms and yet the action was in vain as Aragorn held on tighter.   
  
The human pulled him closer, looking deep into his eyes and Legolas had to fight the urge to shudder. They were cold, his eyes, cold as a rain tossed night and sinister as the lands of the Dark Lord himself. "Legolas!" he said, his once forged kind voice replaced with a hint of malice, "you must tell me what it is that troubles you!"  
  
"Nothing bothers me, Aragorn," Legolas stated clamorously, "perchance it is you that is plagued by something eating upon the soul!" Moving his arms in a backward circular motion, he successfully broke free of the strong grip and took a large step back while glaring at the human and warning him not to come closer. "Now come, let us see to Boromir." The Elf finished ere turning on his heels and stalking away into the forest, his steps not even making the slightest sound.   
  
Legolas was aware that again Aragorn's eyes were following him, and he knew that Gimli had been puzzled by the entire display, but once again he could not have cared less.   
  
Reaching the clearing littered with the dead Orcs' that Boromir had slain, Legolas made his way over to the fallen man, careful not to disturb the ground in the slightest way. He passed like a spirit; his thin frame looked as if it floated above the ground and his golden hair almost glowing in the sun's rays.   
  
Reaching the man's side, Legolas looked down on him in pity and wonder. He had seen death in his life, in fact, he had seen a lot of it, and yet he still never quite got used to it, never quite grasped the concept of that fact that that person was now gone for good and never would again walk the land.   
  
Curiosity overcame him and the Elf knelt down beside the man. Running his hand lightly over the cold flesh of the human's face, he found it to be oddly cold compared to any other human that he had had contact with - but then again, as he reminded himself, he had never touched a dead human before. The man's chest no longer lifted with slight breath, and his lips no longer parted with each intake and exhale. The blood had stopped running from the man's wounds, the heart no longer pumping the fluid through the veins of the body to allow it to spill free, but the small rivulets that had leaked out in the moments of life continued to drip down the front of the man.   
  
Yet, by far the most interesting thing of all was the man's eyes. They were still open and the strangeness of them caused Legolas to lean right over the man, placing one hand on either side of the body so he could peer right into the human's face.   
  
Boromir's eyes were staring out into space, seeing all and yet nothing at the same time. They were slightly glazed over, almost a complete light blue and they seemed dry, like that which a human would suffer had they not blinked in minutes.   
  
"Should I have cause to be jealous?" Aragorn's voice whiffed from over his shoulder into the Elf's ears, making the Elf cringe yet again and flush due to his rather embarrassing position.   
  
Legolas' eyes narrowed, forming deadly slits at the man's words as he sighed out loud. Fighting back all the words that popped into his head, Legolas merely rose gracefully to his feet and glared the man down. Once Aragorn finally looked away and both could hear Gimli approaching there location, Legolas turned his back from the ranger and regarded the deceased Boromir once again.  
  
"What are we to do with him?" he questioned uneasily, not wanting to accept the finality of death.  
  
"The river!" Aragorn proclaimed without a moment hesitation, causing the Elf to further wonder about the ranger's intentions and motions. "We send him down the river - it is what he would have wanted!" His voice was almost cheery, as if he were the happiest that he had been in days at seeing the steward of Gondor's son lying dead, pierced with Orcan arrows.   
  
"Come now," Aragorn called whilst stepping forward towards the limp body against the tree, "Legolas, Gimli, my friends, let us have this done with so we may be one our way!"  
  
With a look of disgust, Legolas stepped forward, ready to aid the man in the disposal of Boromir's body and yet his mind still called to him, still told him of all that he should be warned of.   
  
Surprisingly enough, all that his mind screamed at him was to be weary of Aragorn. Not to trust the man and to keep his distance.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
To be continued  
  
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	2. Threats and Acknowledgements

*Minka is currently yelling at Yours truly over MSN but she is being difficult!* Bloody hell! Anyway, here is the next chapter of this story! Yay.  
  
Yours Truly: I was not really being difficult, Minka, you were just cranky! Anyway, moving right along...we were going to post up a bit of Distorted reality as well, but we have caught up to ourselves on that one so we will wait until it is further along. So we shall make you suffer for ages!  
  
Minka: umm, I think this was pretty much all Yours Truly writing this chapter (I don't think I wanted to do it...can't remember) so all credit, blame, hate mail and the like needs to be sent to her!  
  
Yours Truly: *grumbles* thanks... and gee, why don't you just tell them to kill me, it's easier...  
  
*Minka gets kicked off the net again* FUCK!!!!!!!!!!! *Yours Truly hands her a relaxing Herbal tea which Minka throws again and replaces with coffee* Much better for the nerves! Creating them, that is!  
  
Yours Truly: *whispering* she has BIG problems!! *frowns* and my tea was nice!!! *sips it and makes a face* ok...maybe not... bloody hell, if you want horror, I'll cook for you....  
  
Minka: I can't even cook two minute noodles - I think I win!  
  
Yours Truly: *whisper* No you don't! I can't even makes eggs...ANYWAY, back to the story, please review as we are both starving for comments!  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Temptation Lurks  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Threats and Acknowledgements  
  
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Knowing there was no time to waste when they had much to do and no further choices than the discouraging ones now presented, they worked quickly and in silence, gathering the weapons of the enemies Boromir had slaughtered so they could send him in a proper warrior's farewell.  
  
The distrust within Legolas grew with every glance Aragorn sent his way; his body barely suppressing the shivers of disgust the greedy gaze arose when fixated upon his form. Achingly painful was the knowledge that just the day before he would have died for this man without ever knowing this dark secret he now kept, and he almost yearned for that blissful ignorance to return. How could he trust the human now, when the call of the Ring had corrupted him in the most inadequate of times?  
  
Or had it?  
  
Doubts assaulted him whenever he dwelled upon them and, no matter how much greed and coldness he could sense in that gaze, his heart and mind would not agree upon the matter. His mind cried out in warning, for the man that had once been his friend seemed to be no more. But his heart rebelled, for the thought of the loss of another soul to the horrific fate of corruption and betrayal seemed too much to take in light of every recent event that had come to pass.  
  
Legolas kept his distance, walking away whenever the ranger found some reason to come closer, and even Gimli was eyeing them suspiciously now. Shaking his head in frustration for his lack of discreetness, he vowed to keep an eye on the man, but not to break the bond of friendship that had already bound them for such a long time over suspicions that even though he thought were not mistaken, he dared not to rely upon...just yet.  
  
"Is this all we need?" He inquired softly, hiding his cringe when the ranger immediately took the chance to study his face openly. After a moment of silence the man nodded and took the chance to walk closer, the barely concealed glee on his face when Legolas did not turn away was enough to make the elf reconsider his earlier thoughts. Yet his heart bid him to stand there, and he did, much to his body dismay.  
  
The man's hot breath warmed his skin; that close had the ranger come forth, when finally he spoke, "Aye, Legolas I believe this is all we need." The emphasis on the word 'we' was not lost on the elf, which willed his hands not to hit the man and his voice not to yell at him, thus he merely nodded and walked to place the last of the weapons next to Boromir's body on the boat.  
  
Gimli's eyes seemed to burn their questions into his very skin, and he knew that if not for the tense silence between the three of them the gruff voice of the dwarf would inquire upon Legolas' behavior, as well as Aragorn's most likely. Glancing at the dwarf, he met his gaze, managing what he hoped was a reassuring expression. Gimli did not seem overly convinced, but the fear of violating the freshly formed trust between them seemed to be enough to keep him from asking anything, at least for the time being.  
  
The hand on his shoulder was so sudden in its appearance that it made the elf jump slightly, his ice-blue eyes widening to stare at the owner of the limb...who was Aragorn, of course.  
  
The ranger's amused expression only served to alight the anger building inside of Legolas, and he violently snatched the hand away from his skin, his mouth opening to comment on the daring move; yet the ranger was able to grab his wrist in a bruising grip and forced him in that fashion to meet the cold gaze. The feeling of loss within him arose along with the anger, for his friend would have never looked at him in such a way.  
  
"What do you want, son of Arathorn?" His voice was neutral, yet the barely hidden steel beneath it made the ranger sneer.  
  
"Why, Legolas am I no longer merely 'Aragorn'? Or 'Estel' as you once so fondly called me?"  
  
"I felt it my duty to remind you of your place, Son of Arathorn!" Legolas answered coldly, and the sneer left the man's face, "For you are to be King are you not?" His voice was lowered so only the man could hear the next words, and he regretted what his bruised wrist would suffer as soon as he spoke them "I am sorry for Gondor, after all this waiting no righteous King shall come to them...only another Isildur."  
  
The sound of flesh slapping flesh reverberated through the silent clearing as the man's hand shot out on its own accord to strike against Legolas' pale face. The Elf was caught by surprise at the sudden move, and his head was thrown sideways, hiding his face beneath a golden curtain of silk-like hair.  
  
"Aragorn!" Gimli's voice was loud and frightening in its heated tones, and the man turned to face the dwarf completely, sparing a last hate filled look towards the Elf, who still stood frozen on his spot, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "What in the name of the Valar possessed you to attack your own comrade in arms? Not even that, but your own friend? 'Best' friend, I believe you have called him. Are you such a coward that you cannot answer simple words with words like a civilized man? What kind of King will you become if you strike an unsuspecting ally on each heated discussion? Whatever has possessed you, I know not, but if you do not get yourself under control I shall have no regrets in leaving you behind"  
  
Aragorn's eyes blazed with red fire, lust, greed and hatred shining in dark pools of feeling, the cage of a once honorable soul, so easily spoiled now by what he could have...what he desired...yet the man nodded his head in forged shame, and sighed in exaggerated self-disgust. "I don't know what came over me, friend dwarf" the man said "It was a thing of the moment, Legolas, I would ask you to..." but before the man could turn to face the Elf, and before the cry of warning could leave Gimli's lips, there was cold steel upon Aragorn's skin, and a warm panting breath on his neck.  
  
"Do not touch me, you shall not address me in such informal terms any longer," the Elf hissed, gripping his light knife in hands that shook with restrained violence, "how dare you strike me?!"  
  
"How would you have me address you, then?" The amusement on the ranger's voice was too much for Legolas, and the Elf applied enough pressure on the knife to draw a thin line of blood from the heir of Gondor.  
  
"Legolas, you shouldn't..."  
  
"Stay out of this Gimli," the Elf told him in a cold voice, "This is between Strider and I."  
  
"Strider, now? Wha-"  
  
"Silence!" Legolas snapped, and the knife sank just a little deeper, "you hear me now, *Ranger*, you have broken my trust and you have violated our friendship. The secret I see in your eyes shall remain in silence only for the greater good of these lands...but if you *ever* touch me in such a way again, I will be the one to spill corrupted blood upon the fields. Understand?"  
  
As quickly as it came, the knife was gone and the body against Aragorn disappeared. Legolas walked towards Boromir, and he murmured a quiet Elven blessing to his lost life, standing with his eyes closed and a serene expression as if nothing had come to pass. Yet the blood on Aragorn's throat and upon the Elven knife spoke otherwise. The shocked look on the dwarf's face and the predator one on Aragorn's as spoke great volumes.  
  
I won your trust as Estel long ago, little Elf. I know your kind heart as I know your noble mind...You have lost none of your feelings for me, and I will make sure to prove it to you...  
  
The ranger moved in silence towards the boat where Boromir now rested, Gimli following him with a brooding expression, and Legolas opened his blue gaze to regard them calmly, his body barely betraying him by the barest tenseness of his shoulders when Aragorn came closer.  
  
"I apologize for my actions, Prince of Mirkwood," the ranger said softly as he passed him, his voice so sincere that it almost made the Elf believe the feeling he knew was a lie. "Let us give the Son of Denethor a last farewell" the human voice called. With a stronger push that was required, and a gleam in his eyes that should have never been there, Aragorn sent Boromir's boat towards the river and towards the waterfalls.  
  
Seeing as Gimli mourned in silence and Aragorn seemed absorbed upon joy that arose disgust in the archer, Legolas followed his people's custom and raised his voice in a haunted melody of lament, sung on his own melodious language. He was not surprised when Aragorn didn't join him, nor was he when the ranger immediately turned his eyes away, towards where the hobbits had departed...towards Mordor...instead of watching the body of his fellow human being carried away by the river.  
  
Ending his song when the boat was out of sight, Legolas smiled gently at Gimli who turned approving eyes in his direction only to change his expression to a neutral one when the ranger's eyes looked at him. The eyes seemed apologetic, yet the Elf had faced what the man was capable of just minutes away. He could not bring himself to believe his friend had somehow miraculously returned after their earlier fight.  
  
Yet...it was so easy to believe...  
  
Nay the elf told himself firmly, shaking his head in frustration of his own thoughts You cannot be played for a fool by an act...the man you knew is no more  
  
And with that realization came the pain of loss and the ache of an empty spot on his heart. Swiftly replaced by doubts brought on by sad familiar eyes that begged forgiveness.  
  
I cannot forgive corruption  
  
Still, he could not convince himself.  
  
"Where shall we go now?" Gimli inquired, looking from one face to the other, "has the fellowship failed?"  
  
Yes The thought came from two minds as an answer, the man and the Elf who now stared each other down, one searching for weakness, the other for friendship.  
  
"Nay, the fellowship has not failed, Gimli," Aragorn answered at last. "We still remain, and there are paths still to follow."  
  
"Which path would you follow?" Legolas asked softly and Aragorn turned his eyes on him, no longer alight with greed...but with something else the Elf could not define. He was afraid of the answer to his own words, and was surprised when Aragorn spoke.  
  
"Whichever you would approve of, my friend. If such an act would make you trust me once again."  
  
C'mon little Elf...you know you wish to... Aragorn's thoughts mocked while Legolas' raced.  
  
I cannot trust...but I shall take the choice from your hands, Aragorn.  
  
"We follow Merry and Pippin then," Legolas informed him, and was rather surprised at the lack of response from the human. The dwarf nodded in agreement to his voice.  
  
Without further word, they followed the obvious tracks of the Orcs, and so focused was he on the task, that Legolas missed the longing look Aragorn sent on the way to Mordor. He missed the dark gaze intensely focused upon him as well, and this could well prove to be his latter downfall.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
TBC...  
  
*Minka and Yours Truly argue over who is the worst cook. Lines such as "but it only involves adding hot water and I still screw it up" and "that is almost the same with cooking eggs...i think" are yelled as furniture is throw left and right (no centre as that is so cliché!)*  
  
Minka: Oh, you are here already? Anyway...Yes, yes, yes, we know that it was a cliff hanger/bad spot/evil way to end the chapter, but we really couldn't help it  
  
Yours Truly: ok, so we could but...  
  
Minka: ...that is no fun for us!  
  
Yours Truly: And besides, it wouldn't give you any reason to review *bats eyelashes* so....you know, you could....REVIEW DAMNIT!!!  
  
Minka: she is so nice about it! *pokes out tongue to other*  
  
Yours Truly: hey, you added in the swear word!  
  
Minka: so? It reads better now - wait till you see what I have adding in through my editing...we have to go now! Bye! 


	3. A Matter of Direction

Minka: Yes, yes, yes. We know that it has taken us a LONG time to update this but there are reasons (one of the most influential being the fact that we thought we had already posted this chapter and had thus caught up to ourselves! Lol, we have terrible memories!)  
  
Yours Truly: We do not have terrible memories!! How can you say that M- ..uh...M-...Maria...?  
  
Minka: I almost feel inclined to worry...  
  
Yours Truly: I am barely alive, with attempts of being worked to death over here-with no free time to myself, there has been no time for writing, either!  
  
Minka: same with myself! We seem to have this uncanny ability to not be well for any longer then a week. We get rid of one sickness and then *BOOM* we got ourselves another. I am also in my last year of school so that is rather demanding! Umm, this all seeped out of Yours Truly's evil little mind - I sat there and attempted to cook brownies (key word: brownies...NO...the key word is attempted! Attempted damnit - get it right! *am confused*)  
  
Yours Truly: *tries to understand what was just said* But I forget all we say (I forgot it 2 seconds after I said it) and R&R!!!!  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Temptation Lurks  
  
Chapter Three  
  
A Matter of Direction  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Gimli didn't know what to do any longer. He stood in the middle of a battle of wills against an unseen enemy he could not identify, and the pair that he had seen as one of the closest of the fellowship had disintegrated into distrust and malice.  
  
Legolas was weary around Aragorn now, his eyes narrowing when the man came too close. During the first hours of their chase, Gimli had attributed it to the slap Aragorn had given the Elf, but when they went forward for many more hours tonight and all remained the same, he knew it was more. Legolas did not hold such long grudges, much less when Aragorn had already apologized to him.  
  
And Aragorn.well he had been trying a little too much to be near the Elf, offering him explanations, apologies and terribly sincere words. Perhaps a little too sincere, Gimli acknowledged. More than once the man had sneaked a hand to the Elf's shoulder, when it was obviously unwanted. Gimli worried at the tenseness with which Legolas received the touches as he worried at the heat in the man's gaze when he looked upon the Elf.  
  
During the night, he had kept his silence, trusting his eyes to lead him on the rocky path and to confirm his suspicions of a bigger struggle between his friends than he one he had witnessed the day before. He was sure there was more, but he had kept silent for many an hour.  
  
But enough was enough, thought the dwarf, when at last they halted for a much-needed rest in the hours before the dawn. Legolas was restless, the dwarf could see, as he sat down beside him for a moment, before springing up again and heading towards a tall rock a few feet away to look down towards the valley that extended bellow them. With dismay, he observed as the ranger made a move to follow the Elf.  
  
"Aragorn" he called swiftly, granting his Elven friend the time he was sure he needed "Come hither, I have a question to ask you."  
  
The human took his time in turning to face him, his features betraying nothing once he did. He walked slowly towards the dwarf, throwing a last glance towards the tall figure of Legolas before sitting down on a rock next to Gimli "Ask me, then, friend dwarf, what do you need to know?"  
  
As the cold eyes regarded him, Gimli knew he had to phrase this carefully ere he ruin his chance to talk with the human civilly "I am concerned for the quest" he announced slowly, taking his time with the choice of words "I am concerned for the results this grudge between you and Legolas will have at the end, when Merry and Pippin will need us...and personally, I am not entirely sure where this disagreement comes from"  
  
Aragorn's eyes narrowed briefly before his neutral expression could take over, but Gimli was too preoccupied with the answer to his inquiry to take notice of it. "Legolas and I had the disagreement you witnessed earlier."  
  
"But I did not hear all that was said," interrupted Gimli swiftly.  
  
"You did not need to," Aragorn answered coldly. "Legolas offended me, and I responded badly, that is all you need to know."  
  
"Legolas offended you?" Gimli repeated "I have not seen him do so with anyone as of yet, may I know what he said?"  
  
"You may not!" The ranger hissed, "It is personal, between him and I." the dwarf didn't like the glee dancing in the human eyes when he said this. "I apologized, as you have seen, and he is being too stubborn to accept that so far."  
  
"You offended him greatly," Gimli supplied "But even I see it strange he has not accepted your apologies, as good friends are you two are."  
  
Or were? Gimli thought sadly.  
  
"He will," The human said with certainty. "Just give him some time."  
  
"You sound confident," observed the dwarf. "This has happened before between the both of you?"  
  
There was a fleeting flash of grief in the human eyes when he answered, "Nay...it has not happened before. Legolas' heart is true, he will come around."  
  
"Is yours true?" Gimli asked before he could stop himself, and with his words whatever flash of humanity that had been in the ranger's eyes before vanished.  
  
"You make serious accusations, son of Glóin," said Aragorn coldly, "do you have any reasons behind them?"  
  
It is time Gimli thought No more games  
  
"I have them," said the dwarf, "yet I lack the spirit to prove them right."  
  
"Then do not..." began the man.  
  
"You are doing a splendid job at that, however," interrupted Gimli, "without me having to make an effort to see the truth behind my thoughts."  
  
"What thoughts are those, *friend*?" Aragorn asked calmly, his eyes aflame, "You believe me a traitor? You believe me unworthy of your trust?"  
  
"I believe you human," answered the stout dwarf with a sigh, "I believe that your intentions were noble, but now I cannot see in you what I had first seen."  
  
"Perhaps you are not looking with the same eyes," Aragorn hissed. "If you do not trust me as you once did, you cannot see me in the same manner."  
  
"Neither do you give me a reason to, Aragorn. I have seen the way you look at Legolas, I am not blind, and I do not like the flash of..."  
  
"What do you speak about?" Legolas came over, his keen ears having caught parts of the conversation from his spot on top of the rock, "If I am concerned in the conversation, I would like to know."  
  
Aragorn stood and shook his head towards the dwarf in a waning manner. "You are not concerned, Legolas," the ranger said, meeting the blue gaze of the Elf.  
  
"I just heard Gimli utter my name..."  
  
"And your name came up, yes, just now that you've arrived, but the conversation did not involve you." Aragorn explained calmly, as if talking to a child. "Now tell me, my friend, what did you see from where you stood?"  
  
Legolas' whole stance had tensed, as if he were restraining himself from attacking the human, and Gimli could not blame him in the slightest as he felt much the same way. "Do not talk to me as if I were dim-witted, Aragorn, for that I am not," Legolas barked in a most uncharacteristic display of rage before getting his emotions back under control. "As for what I saw, the tracks of the Orcs change direction once they descend towards the valley."  
  
"They do?" The ranger inquired, unaffected by the angry words of the Elf, "Where do they head?"  
  
Blue eyes met grey ones in a silent battle that Gimli ended with an angry sigh, "Legolas, please inform us, where do the Orcs head?"  
  
Legolas turned bland eyes in his direction after glaring at the human a final time, "I am not certain," he said at last "the trail vanishes abruptly...which way would they turn, do you think?" Legolas asked them both.  
  
"You are not certain?" repeated Aragorn sardonically; not answering his question, "Then by all means, Legolas, lead the way so I can assist your observations."  
  
"Aragorn..." Legolas hissed warningly and this time even Gimli was infuriated by the remark, bringing the dwarf to stand in defense of Legolas.  
  
"If the eyes of an Elf did not see clearly, what makes you think mortal eyes will?"  
  
"Experienced eyes," said Aragorn over his shoulder, taking a strong hold of one of Legolas' tense arms and dragging him along towards the same rock the Prince had stood upon before. Only for the pleasure of proving him wrong, did Legolas allowed it, but even Gimli could see the anger in his eyes as he let himself be lead.  
  
"We are not done talking, Aragorn!" Gimli called to the man's retreating back, but the human did not acknowledge his words.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
They stood upon the rock now, and Aragorn was too close for the Elf's comfort. He jumped away from him into a nearby rock and pointed towards the ground, ignoring the look the ranger sent him when he moved away.  
  
"Look below and you can see the tramping of the Orcs changes direction," he informed coldly. "Where towards, I am not certain. Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward to strike the Entwash?"  
  
Aragorn looked down and studied what little his eyes reached, but he had come up here with the answer he would give already planned. Taking his time, as if he were examining every detail of the land underneath them, he at last turned back to face Legolas, who was studying him closely.  
  
"For the manner in which they have quickened their step, I know for certain they are aware we are following them," said the man. "And taking this into consideration, as well as the slow wit of the Orcs, I will say they will try to leave us behind."  
  
"What do you suggest?" Questioned Legolas, confused when the man did not elaborate.  
  
"It is probable the creatures will take the most unlikely way, then," said the ranger confidently. "To Fangorn they would head."  
  
"Fangorn?" repeated the Elf slowly. "It is a possibility, Aragorn, but even the Orcs fear those woods. Coward creatures they are, and for that they rather run than turn back and face us. Do you honestly believe they would head towards that place, in where the trees would loath their every breath?"  
  
Aragorn nodded, convinced and descended from the high rock "Aye, Legolas, I believe they would."  
  
"But they already have a great distance on us, why all the problems to leave us behind, when they already have? We are following their trail, not them from up close."  
  
"You asked for my opinion, my friend," Aragorn said with a smile, offering his hand for the Elf to climb down the rock, "I am giving you my reasoning."  
  
The Elf ignored the hand and came down to stand face to face with the human, "I no longer know whether to trust your reasoning, or not."  
  
Anger flashed within Aragorn's gaze and he looked deep into the pools of blue that stared him down, his smile becoming a sneer. "You must, for I am leading this company. I have honed my tracking skills for years, as you well know; do you honestly believe I would lead you astray?"  
  
Sadness overcame the Prince as he searched for his friend in the devious being in front of him. "I know not, Aragorn.do you want us to find our little friends?"  
  
The man smiled sadly, and placed a hand around the Elf's shoulders, "Of course I do, my good Legolas," The Elf stiffened suddenly, as if a suspicion had just been confirmed, but the man took no notice. "I miss them, as do you," continued Aragorn, leading him back towards Gimli who looked at them warily when they drew closer.  
  
Legolas stopped suddenly, and stood in front of the man; "You lie," he hissed, "You do not want us to find them!"  
  
A pause and Legolas readied himself for the fight.  
  
"How can you accuse me of such a thing?!" Aragorn cried, enraged, "I have been your friend for long years, Legolas. I thought you knew me better than that."  
  
"You have not been my friend," stated the Elf "Aragorn has, and I find myself speaking to another."  
  
"Your mind is weary, then, Legolas, for you are speaking foolishness!" declared the ranger, "listen to yourself, if not me then, who do you think you speak to?"  
  
"The Ring," Legolas hissed. He heard Gimli gasp behind him, but could not find it in him to care as Aragorn's hands came to rest on his shoulders; a little too close to his neck if any of them would be asked about it, yet Legolas did not resist the touch as he refused to back down from their staring contest. "Face it now, Aragorn, you have been corrupted."  
  
The hands gave a warning squeeze as Aragorn eyes flashed with murder and...lust...?  
  
"You speak folly, little Prince," declared the man with a calmness he didn't exhibit in his stance. "How can I be corrupted when the Ring is so far from my reach?"  
  
"The same way Gollum was, that Saruman was..."  
  
"You compare me to such lowly creatures?" hissed the man, and the hands squeezed too hard this time. Legolas backed away and struck his hands from his skin angrily, turning away from the man and walking to Gimli.  
  
"Aye, I do." whispered the Elf, before meeting the shocked eyes of the dwarf and raising his voice, "We go Northwards, Gimli, towards Isengard."  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
"Towards Isengard!" The Elf bellowed to the man in his most commanding voice, and for the first time Gimli saw him as the Prince that he was. "Towards the logical place the Orcs would march...towards Saruman."  
  
And it was so that Legolas led them ahead, hate boiling inside of him. Gimli tried to talk to him, but it was useless, for the Elf was not willing to hear or explain nothing of what had been said. So the dwarf marched forward with worry and distrust building steadily up within.  
  
All the while Aragorn smiled, his scrutinizing gaze lingering on the back of the Elf.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Tbc...  
  
Yours Truly: Do you want more? Do you crave it? Need it? Well here's a little piece! You can all get the rest when we get back our free time and our lives!!! But that doesn't mean you can't review...right? So feel free to tear us apart in there, rather than just to yourself! (If that makes any sense beyond my own mind)  
  
Minka: *Rolls eyes for no reason at all.*  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It had always been the Elf, always.  
  
Looking down on him now, asleep and looking like some innocent being of majestic wonder, Aragorn knew that Legolas was aware of exactly what was going through his head. The Elf knew that Aragorn would reconsider his past words of the Ring, knew that that little voice of his conscious would try and talk him out of what was so obviously needed. It was all a game to Legolas, all some giant game board in which he could move people about with a mere command and now, for that, Legolas would finally pay, finally get what was coming to him and, at long last, he would release Aragorn of the constant yearning need that he had for the Elf.  
  
He could fight it no more, it was as if everything about the Elf was taunting him, calling to him to touch him, to make him his. It was infuriating, aggravating and all too tempting. The way Legolas' eyes stayed open in sleep; as if he were trying to make Aragorn lose control of himself even when the Elf had rest.  
  
Reaching down with his right hand, he made to touch the Elf's pallid skin...  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Yours Truly: Want more? Yeah? Well you can't have any at the moment!  
  
Minka: *trying to put out the fire that is now consuming her kitchen* Yeah! You will have to come back next time to see what happens when I get off my ass and contribute to this story! Lol. *stands to the side and watches as her house burns down* Last time I ever try to cook...  
  
Yours Truly: *ignoring Minka* Now review...please? 


	4. Poison

Author's notes: Due to Minka's dysfunctional brain and Yours Truly's current state of frozenness, we are quite incapable of writing decent author's notes! We are however capable of shamelessly begging for reviews! Now would you read this and review? Like right now? Yes' Then why are you reading this for! Read and Review already!  
  
Minka: umm, I wrote this while mum was going through one of her 'I am upset as I just argued with the boyfriend that I do not even like' moods and she was playing Alice Coopers 'Poison' over and over and over and over and over (repetition is always bad). So I locked myself in my office and write slash! Yes, that means if you do not like it, do not blame Yours Truly! *points at mother* blame her!!!  
  
Lol, anyway, this is what came out...  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Temptation Lurks  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Poison  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
You're cruel, device  
  
Your blood, like ice  
  
One look, could kill  
  
My pain, your thrill  
  
I wanna love you but I better not touch - don't touch  
  
I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop  
  
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much - too much  
  
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
"You need rest, Master Elf," Gimli said quietly and on the sly so Aragorn would not hear. They had been traveling for close to two days now, and throughout that time, Legolas had neither slept nor allowed his mind to wander in the Elven dream world that he normally would have. Gimli could tell that he was tense; nervous even, over Aragorn's strange behavior but, that aside, the Elf did need rest else he would soon collapse.  
  
Legolas said nothing, just shook his head and cast another vexed glance in the direction of the man that was building a small fire for the night. After his small outburst and acknowledgment regarding Aragorn's lust for the Ring, Legolas had said not a word, either to the human or to the dwarf. He had simply shut himself off, closed himself to the world and all within it and only concentrated his mind upon the ground and possible signs of the passing of the Orcs with the Hobbits'.  
  
"I will sit guard this night," Gimli offered his friend, wanting him to be able to at least get a small amount of rest. Elves may not tire as quickly as other races, but they still get weary, especially after such a large fight as the one that split the fellowship and then days of travel. "Nothing shall slip past me!" Gimli almost boasted to his preoccupied friend.  
  
Looking down at his stout companion, Legolas felt his heart soften and his mind fully return for the first time in days. Offering the best smile that he could, Legolas nodded slightly and released the mental floodgate that he had been using to restrain his fatigue and conflicting emotions.  
  
"Thank you," he said silently, placing his faith and trust in his ally. Doing his best to hide a yawn, he added, "I shall take you up on that offer, Gimli."  
  
Neither noticed the sly smile that tugged at the corners of Aragorn's mouth and eyes as he slowly reached for his pack and the small leather bag contained within.  
  
"Good! And fear not for I shall make sure all is well." Gimli once again exclaimed as the Elf made ready to bed down for the first night in a long while.  
  
Lying flat on his back, his hands clasped upon his breast, Legolas looked up at the sky as he felt the rush of exhaustion sweep over him. Almost immediately he found himself helpless to fight the pull of sleep and rest as it nibbled forcefully at the edges of his mind and, even though his head was alive with thoughts, fears and wishes he soon found himself fully emerged in the world of the soporific.  
  
*****  
  
Aragorn and Gimli glared at each other, each not really knowing why but feeling inclined to and wanting to win. The match had been going on since Legolas first lay down, Gimli wanting to protect his friend and Aragorn wanting what he did not comprehend.  
  
Eyes darting around the small camp, Gimli spied what he was looking for, and, once again establishing eye contact with the Ranger, rose to his feet and walked to the side of the fire near Aragorn. Retrieving his water bottle, he then casually walked back to his previous seat near the Elf and his discarded armor while unscrewing the lid. Moving the open neck to his mouth and tipping the bottle up, he never once broke the staring contest with the human even as he drank deeply of the refreshing water within.  
  
Burping loudly from the sudden rush of liquid to meet the air in his throat, he noticed the human smiling brilliantly over at him, his eyes gleaming in the firelight as his face was almost completely transformed from the smile.  
  
Eyeing the man strangely, Gimli wiped the drops of water from his beard while looking to his Elven friend to make sure he was safe. Legolas was altogether lost in his dreams, his eyes open but entirely glazed over to an almost deathly blue-white colour. Turning his head back to the human, Gimli felt a strange almost rushing feeling assail his mind and vision. It was as if he had fallen, or moved too fast after being restricted to a sick bed and, even as he held his head still, he could still feel the world revolve around him at a great speed.  
  
Yawning, Gimli took another drink, trying to get the unnatural dizziness from his head, when he suddenly felt a strange, solid object slip into his mouth from the bottle. Almost throwing the waterskin away, he spat the hard object out of his mouth and into a gloved hand. Holding it up to the flickering flames of the campfire he was alarmed to find that his vision was blurry beyond recognition and as he yawned again, he fought desperately to focus his eyes in on the thing held between his thumb and finger. Finally seeing it as a shape and not a blur, the dwarf found it to be a root of some plant alien to him.  
  
"Tired?" an almost chirpy voice came from the other side of the fire, and, mind working slower then it should, Gimli looked up to see Aragorn's smiling face and dancing eyes fixated on him.  
  
Standing up, the ranger moved care freely around the fire, coming to a stop in front of Gimli and extended his open hand. Blinking a couple of times, Gimli was just able to make out what was within the tanned palm and, with horror he put two and two together.  
  
"What is it?" he demanded as he stared at the root in the man's fist that was the same as what he found in his water.  
  
"You feel it, do you not? Feel it taking over and winning?" Aragorn asked sugary as he watched the horror pass over Gimli's face as he yawned yet again. "It does wonders, you know," the man continued, almost talking to himself, "could knock an entire army out with just a little of this - how are you feeling?" he quickly asked as if he really cared when the dwarf started to sway in his seat, his eyes getting heaver and heaver.  
  
Gulping against the bile that seemed to be rising up his throat, Gimli blinked rapidly yet again, trying to keep his eyes open and his mind focused. Drawing in a great breath, he turned slightly towards Legolas to try and rouse him from his slumber.  
  
"Oh no you don't!" Aragorn said with another sadistic smile as the dwarf was about to yell for his friend. Quickly pulling out the small, curved dagger that he had been given in Lothlórien, he brought the hilt down on the side of Gimli's skull with all his might, stopping his call before it even passed over his lips. As the dwarf fell heavily to the ground, Aragorn just gave him an almost patronizing look. "Now why did you have to go and bring the Elf into it - we were having fun!" Giving the fallen dwarf a harsh kick in his unprotected side, Aragorn turned his eyes in the direction of the sleeping Elf, his storm-grey orbs reflecting his excitement and sense of danger.  
  
Dropping the root to the ground, he moved over to the Elf's side and sat down cross-legged next to the fair being that seemed to occupy his thoughts entirely. Looking down on the slumbering Elf, Aragorn could not stop the suggestive leer that crossed his face as the new emotions stirred up within him again. Yet, somewhere deep within, he could hear a small voice, one long forgotten and extinguished, telling him to leave, to stop this foolishness before it got out of hand. As soon as that voice popped up, another seemed to awaken, informing him that it was all Legolas' fault, that the Elf had brought this and whatever else he would do to the being upon himself. Legolas was the evil one, not him. It was the Elf that played with him like a toy only to throw him away once he was bored. The Elf was the one that had started this, with his shy, innocent looks that he would cast in Aragorn's direction, with the small little smiles that would pass between only them and that only they would know what to make of them.  
  
Although, never had he looked upon this Elf so, never looked upon him as a potential mate, and the distant speaker was convinced that Legolas had never thought of Aragorn as such either. They were friends, comrades in arms; had faced a thousand evils together and, most importantly of all, they trusted each other.  
  
But the Elf was poison, a tease and a torment to all men. What's more, Legolas knew it. He knew what he did to Aragorn; to any other unfortunate being that may lay eyes upon him and he relished in the attention. He thrived off it, needed it to survive and so he would drag them in and catch them, like how a spider uses its web to grasp the attention of a fly, luring it into a trap and providing a means of death. Yes, death, death would come to Aragorn if he allowed Legolas to go untaught in the lessons of what it meant to tease one so.  
  
Then why did the Elf not kill him? Why did the Elf not use him as nothing else but a way to satisfy cravings? To think that Legolas had such a motive, such a plan was not only folly but fully laugh worthy as well. If anything, Legolas was the fly caught in the web of humans' uncontrollable thoughts and acts of lust. He was not to blame, he could not be blamed for what he did not do or indorse, let alone desire.  
  
Then what of the seductive tone that he spoke to Aragorn with? Of the way that he would encourage the smallest of touches between them - the collapse of the Gates of Moria, the Bridge of Kazard-Dûm, Amon Hen - it was he that had wanted those, he who had tempted Aragorn into such actions with those eyes that spoke all too clearly of his motives.  
  
Nay, eyes that spoke all too truly of his innocence! He did not mean for any such touches to hold a deeper meaning - after all, it was the Elven way, to be open in comradely, to show support with chaste acts of physical contact.  
  
Then he shall enjoy the touches that shall be bestowed upon him now! If it is such the Elven way then he should be used to it, grow to like it, even love it - he will *learn* to need it.  
  
He shall not. He would hate Aragorn for it - more so then he does already. Legolas would not forgive such an act, especially after what the human had done to Gimli.  
  
But the dwarf did bring it upon himself - he had tried to interfere with what Aragorn and Legolas had together. He was trying to impose himself upon the Elf, win his favor and heart.  
  
But the man had nothing with the Elf and that small, rational voice knew it. There was nothing that Gimli could have tried to break apart bar a close friendship.  
  
What were all the touches, the smiles, the whispered words of encouragement and the undying faith and trust all for then?  
  
Friendship - that was what! They were signs of friendship and words that were needed to keep Aragorn on his path.  
  
Never! Not even an Elf would be that supportive - especially not of a mere human unless he felt something; something deeper, something past the lines of friendship. It was the only thing to account for such actions. Unless Legolas was truly playing with him, was really the little whore that he seemed. Perchance he was, maybe he really was just toying with Aragorn, leading him on and astray - away from his betrothed and tempting him into his bed.  
  
Why would he do that? He had no motive, no need for Aragorn and Arwen not to marry - he had almost been as happy as Aragorn when it had been announced; the joining of his two greatest friends.  
  
Jealous. He was jealous that he would no longer have a human toy, a slab of human clay to bend to his will and to shape into whatever he wanted.  
  
When has the Elf ever tried to make Aragorn into anything that he was not already? On occasion Legolas had given him a gentle push in the right direction, but never actually tried to make Aragorn into a thing of his want.  
  
He has and still does! With each smile, each look cast in the man's direction he was turning him into what he wanted; someone who would melt in his gaze, fall at his feet or walk across fire with but a spoken word from the Elf. That was the way with Legolas, always trying to make others flock around him, to do his will and Aragorn was no exception.  
  
Yet if the man crumbled, would it not be his own fault? Aragorn should have been stronger, should have been of stable enough mind to fight whatever actions of the Elf that he thought suggestive.  
  
Look at him. Who could resist? His perfect skin, his hair, ice-blue eyes that left a man drowning in their depth and luscious lips that induced wild fantasies within the head. His voice was enough to bring a man to his knees as if shot with a dart of poison. Aye, the Elf was poison. There was no other word to describe him. Everything about him was enough to make one have need to gasp for air, to reach out blindly for a support.  
  
Through all these years Aragorn had never felt such a thing. He knew that others did, that most humans, male or female, were driven to the point of insanity with just one look at the Elf he called friend.  
  
Insanity, yes, maybe that was Legolas' plot after all. Maybe he did not want Aragorn to be putty in his hands but to be driven mad by his lusts, desires and the knowledge that he could do naught to satisfy them. He was indeed a cold being - no wonder he never felt the icy bite of winters frost for his blood was that chilled that it would make no never mind. His heart black, frozen like a burnt tree stump suddenly caught in the thralls of a winter storm.  
  
Legolas was one of the most compassionate people that Aragorn had the honor of knowing - his heart was not cold! It was warm, inviting and easily broken like the tiny crystals that formed on the tops of rocks near the salty mouth of the River Lune whereupon the Grey Havens were built. He was not poison; he was life.  
  
A stealer of life...a stealer of mind and soul. Like the witches of the realm of Angmar he liked to prey upon the weak, upon the helpless and the easily broken. Well Aragorn would have no more of it. He would not stand to be made a fool of by some flirtatious Elf - prince or no.  
  
Mirkwood's prince - Mirkwood's *crowned* prince. There was nothing that he could do that would not bring the wrath of Mirkwood down upon him and any that stood beside him. Then again, who would stand beside the human? Most loved Legolas, saw him for the kind, gentle creature that he was. They did not have disillusioned fantasies about him being some male temptress.  
  
All would stand with the future king. After all, there were all victims of the same sorcery, all lured into the same net of want and need never to be rewarded by the one that they all strove for. Legolas would have it that men turned arms against each other for him, that they chopped each other down like wheat on harvest just in his name. He was conceited, overbearing, sardonic and manipulative. In a word; poison. Poison to the heart and mind, to the body and soul. Poison that did not kill but grew to be addictive, made one need it more then air in their lungs or water running down their throats. He was like a deadly drug. One that you knew would destroy you but one that you must have, must use - must possess.  
  
Then again, perhaps it was something else that made Aragorn feel this way. Maybe it was not some magick cast by the Elf that lay before him in order to make him wild with yearning. What if it was the thing that was so far away, so unattainable to even him and yet was doomed to be forever his bane?  
  
"No," Aragorn muttered to himself, it was Legolas doing this to him...it could not be that which Frodo carried. No, it was a deploy, a trick that the Elf had used in their last conversation in order to make himself seem guilt free as Aragorn was slowly driven insane.  
  
It had always been the Elf, always.  
  
Looking down on him now, asleep and looking like some innocent being of majestic wonder, Aragorn knew that Legolas was aware of exactly what was going through his head. The Elf knew that Aragorn would reconsider his past words of the Ring, knew that that little voice of his conscience would try and talk him out of what was so obviously needed. It was all a game to Legolas, all some giant game board in which he could move people about with a mere command and now, for that, Legolas would finally pay; finally get what was coming to him and, at long last, he would release Aragorn of the constant yearning need that he had for the Elf.  
  
He could fight it no more, it was as if everything about the Elf was taunting him, calling to him to touch him, to make him his. It was infuriating, aggravating and all too tempting. The way Legolas' eyes stayed open in sleep; as if he were trying to make Aragorn lose control of himself even when the Elf had rest.  
  
Reaching down with his right hand, he made to touch the Elf's pallid skin, yet that little voice popped up again, this time more direct and personal, as if it were actually a separate being trying to break through.  
  
'I thought he was poison?' it said with a hint of self-satisfaction as it stopped Aragorn's hand in midair. 'If he truly was poison to you, why are you about to touch him? Why take him, what make him yours when you despise him so?'  
  
Grunting softly, Aragorn looked back at the Elf, his face a mask of calm as he slept. Maybe he did not hate him, maybe he did like him - that would explain his want to possess the Elf. But why should it? Why should he have to justify his own actions to himself? If he wanted the Elf - which he did - then he merely had to extend his hand and take...take what he always wanted.  
  
Stretching out again, his fingers almost quivered with the want to feel the smooth, moistened skin under his touch.  
  
'Do not do it, he is your friend!'  
  
Biting his lip against the assault of his own mind, Aragorn settled for merely moving his hand near Legolas' face, only a few centimeters away from the pale, marble-like skin. As his hand hovered above the Elf's face, it seemed as if the voice inside of him had been crushed - as if it could no longer fight the overwhelming need that gripped at his heart, mind and body, and with each time he passed his hand over Legolas' cheek, Aragorn could almost feel the soft flesh being rubbed against his palm, his calloused fingers trailing over the flawless creamy surface.  
  
Breathing deeply, the human let his hand drift a little lower and over the Elf's lips, imagining that he was feeling the full, soft mouth that he so desperately wanted to claim with his own. He could picture the warmth of his lips and tongue as he kissed him, the sensation of Legolas' pout as he deepened the kiss and the taste of the Elf's mouth as Legolas allowed him access to the area beyond the perfect lips.  
  
The air seemed like the silky veil that was Legolas' hair, golden like the sun and Aragorn could not help but wonder at how much more magnificent it would look drenched in sweat and sprayed out upon a pillow of black satin as he moved above him; the light and the dark.  
  
As Legolas slowly breathed, the human's attention was drawn to his throat and the subtle rise and fall of the tender collar bone. How he wanted to lick that skin, to taste its unique qualities as he held the thrashing beauty pinned beneath him. He wanted to make the Elf squirm, to lose that composure that he always conducted himself with and to make Legolas scream. He did not care if it was from pleasure or pain, as long as the Elf was screaming for him and only him in his sweet, tempting voice that sent shivers up and down his spine.  
  
These thoughts invaded his mind and made his hands tingle with the need to touch pale flesh.  
  
Yes, he would have the Elf - he would take the poison that lay before him...take it willingly.  
  
Letting his hand trail above the prince's neck, he once again let his fingers twitch just above Legolas' full lips, Aragorn's gaze no longer including the now clear eyes. Letting his fingers slowly descend, slowly growing closer to the soft feeling that he dreamed about, he did not see the Elf's hand clutch around the hilt of a small dagger that lay concealed in the underside of his left gauntlet, nor did he realize that the Elf's heartbeat quickened when he let his first two fingers dance upon the surface of the archer's bottom lip.  
  
Not being able to contain himself any further, Aragorn withdrew his fingers and leant down, ready to claim the Elf's lips with his own. As his tongue darted out to be awarded the first taste, a sudden whirl of movement set off his internal warning alarm yet, before he could react, he once again felt Legolas pressing a dagger to his throat.  
  
-*-*-*-*-  
  
Tbc...  
  
Minka: Don't you just LOVE those three little letters at the end of a chapter?  
  
Yours Truly: Yes! It means we get to stop thinking for awhile!  
  
Minka: Oh yeah, I back that up one hundred percent! See, I am going back to school now - I get to stop thinking!  
  
Anyway, hope you all liked and as you can see, the slash is now coming and the story is moving into the reason that it is R rated. Go us!  
  
Until next time! And please review! 


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